Letters From the Heart

by Kay Bea

  Jane, I know you will think me to be the worst sort of wife imaginable, but I cannot hide anything from you. The very idea of spending even a few weeks away from the constant scrutiny and attention of my cousin brings a lightness to my being such as I have not experienced this past year at least.

  Your affectionate sister,

  Elizabeth Collins

  April 1, 1813

  Rosings Park, Kent

  Dear Mary,

  I have at last met the famed Miss Darcy, and I must say she has met my every expectation. I need not list her admirable qualities since you are well aware of them yourself. She is indeed the most amiable young lady I know, excepting perhaps Jane.

  I am sorry you will be missing your friend, and I cannot begin to comprehend the thinking of my mother in not allowing you, Catherine, and Lydia to travel to Pemberley this spring. I would have imagined she would be nearly faint with joy at the thought of her single daughters spending the summer at that great estate. I can only think the change in each of you has left her unsettled, and she does not care for the influence of Miss Darcy and her brother in your lives.

  I confess my disappointment is not for you alone but has another, rather selfish, motive. I shall be travelling to Derbyshire with Anne when the Darcys return to Pemberley, and my joy could only have increased in knowing I would see my beloved sisters. I do not know how Lady Catherine contrived to have the invitation originally meant for Anne extended to include myself, but I am most grateful for the opportunity to travel to that part of the country. I must admit I am also curious to see how Mr Darcy behaves in his home where he must be most at ease. As to the extended absence from my cousin—well, I feel on some subjects there cannot be too little said. I daresay I shall be able to bear the separation.

  You are never far from my thoughts.

  Your loving sister,

  Elizabeth Collins

  April 1813, Pemberley

  Darcy stood anxiously on the steps of his ancestral home and watched as the carriages approached. His traitorous heart would not hear that Elizabeth was only coming to visit—that she was not his, that she never would be. Instead, it beat wildly in his chest—a fierce, dancing rhythm that insisted she, at last, was coming home. When the ladies were helped from the carriage, Darcy found himself envious of his younger sister. Youthful exuberance easily excused her as she rushed forward to greet her cousin and new friend. He watched the ladies exchange greetings and found his patience finally rewarded as they moved to go indoors. He bowed deeply over Elizabeth’s extended hand saying, “Welcome to Pemberley. I am pleased you are come.”

  Elizabeth’s pale cheeks pinked at his words. “You are too kind, Mr Darcy. I thank you for including me in the invitation.”

  He did not, could not, give voice to his thoughts. Instead, he replied, “I could not deny the wishes of both my sister and cousin.”

  “I am sure not. I well know the pain of living with a sister’s disappointed hopes,” Elizabeth replied, and Darcy thought he heard a teasing note in her voice. The sound gave him hope.

  “I can well imagine, and I have only the one sister,” Darcy agreed. “I have also met your younger sisters and know them to be very determined creatures.” The remark granted him the first of what he hoped would be many smiles.

  The second smile was granted when Elizabeth was shown to her rooms. He had placed her in a guest room overlooking his favourite part of the grounds. From her window, she would be able to see the pond, the woods, and any number of walking paths to both. He had followed his housekeeper at a discreet distance when she escorted Elizabeth to her rooms and was gratified by the small, if fleeting, smile that graced her features when she took in the chamber.

  April 16, 1813

  Pemberley, Derbyshire

  Dear Richard,

  She is here. She is perhaps too thin, and I cannot like the shadows in her eyes, but she is at Pemberley, and that is the material point. Anne and Miss Elizabeth were due to arrive last week; however, there was some difficulty with Mr Collins, and the ladies were not able to depart as planned. It appears there was some question as to whether Miss Elizabeth would be able to join our cousin, but Mr Collins was loath to go against his patroness and, in the end, Lady Catherine prevailed.

  I trust you will not condemn me when I say the mere sight of Miss Elizabeth in my home has left me undone. She is entranced not by the richness of the furnishings or even the size of the house, but rather by the beauty of the grounds. She has already petitioned Georgiana for leave to wander the many paths Pemberley has to offer. It is very nearly everything I have wished for, and my only sadness comes from the knowledge that she must eventually return to Kent. I shall not dwell on such thoughts. Instead, I shall endeavour to see her smile at least once every day, and if I am very lucky, I shall know the joy of hearing her laughter ring throughout these halls.

  I am pleased to learn you have decided to accept your father’s offer of assistance in purchasing a small estate. It seems the appeal of the War Office cannot compete with the charms of Lady Amelia after all. There is sure to be some property or other that would suit your needs in any of the neighbouring counties. Bingley arrives May 10 to begin his own search. As I am joining him, I am happy to look for any properties that would suit. What say you to Nottinghamshire or York? Only send word and I shall act.

  Your cousin,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  Elizabeth was enchanted by Pemberley; she understood both Caroline Bingley’s raptures and Mr Darcy’s pride. Though the manor was elegance itself, she found she was most delighted by the expansive library and the miles of walking paths. She had applied to Georgiana almost immediately for the use of both, and her hostess had granted permission with unrestrained delight.

  Mr Darcy himself had shown her round the library, pointing out those volumes he thought would most interest her whilst stating she was perfectly free to disregard his choices in favour of her own. She had not been able to conceal the smile that stole across her lips nor could she silence the gentle teasing voice that asked, “Shall we now talk of books, Mr Darcy?”

  When she covered her mouth in shock at her own forwardness, a kind hand gently removed it and an even kinder voice replied, “I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours.” And she was quite sure he meant it.

  From that day onward, she visited the library at least once every afternoon. In the mornings, she could be found wandering among the roses, through the woods, or very near the pond. Though she sometimes carried a book with her, she was just as likely to return to the house with hair a little too mussed to have been properly covered with her matron’s cap and cheeks a little too flushed for casual walking. On those days, she could not help but notice that, while Mr Darcy stared as he always had, she no longer saw condemnation in his eyes.

  May 6, 1813

  Pemberley, Derbyshire

  Dear Papa,

  What can I say of Pemberley and my delight in being here? Never have I seen a place for which nature has done more or where natural beauty has been so little counteracted by an awkward taste. The estate itself is nearly ten miles around and is covered by meadows, woodlands, and streams. I wander the paths every day to my heart’s content. When the weather does not permit me out of doors, I find I can cheerfully spend an entire day in Pemberley’s library. Mr Darcy tells me it is the work of many generations, and I daresay that even you would be satisfied with its offerings. The very air of this place restores my soul.

  I spend my days in company with Anne and Georgiana. We do all those little things that occupy a lady’s time. Georgiana plays the pianoforte so beautifully that I am almost ashamed to perform in the same room with her, but our host often requests that I play, and as a lady, I can hardly refuse. Perhaps Georgiana’s prodigious talent is the reason Lydia wanted to learn and Mary became so determined to improve her own playing. Mr Darcy purchased a new instrument for his sister, and she is gracious to allow my poor fingers to caress its keys.

  I had fo
rgotten I was capable of such contentment. The only thing I lack here is my dear family.

  Your loving daughter,

  Elizabeth Collins

  May 1813

  Elizabeth spent the morning walking through Pemberley’s woods and had only just managed to restore her appearance when Mrs Reynolds tapped lightly on her door.

  “Enter,” Elizabeth called out.

  “Begging your pardon, Mrs Collins, but Mr Darcy and Miss Darcy wish for you to join them in the sitting room.”

  Elizabeth wondered what they could be about but readily agreed to the request. She took a moment to adjust her cap, scowling at the thing as though it offended her, then moved on light feet to join her friends. On reaching the room, all thought of decorum, all concern for dignity, all manner of pride was forgot. “Jane! Oh, my dearest, dearest, Jane!”

  The sisters could not move quickly enough to embrace, and neither gave a moment’s concern for the tears they shed. When they finally released one another, Elizabeth was overjoyed to meet her nephew and pronounced him as fine a baby as there ever was. Her delight in seeing her family once again distracted her from seeing the joy in Mr Darcy’s face as he observed the reunion.

  The sisters were nigh on inseparable after that though they easily brought Georgiana into their company. If he had harboured any concerns for his sister’s inclusion, they were laid to rest when Elizabeth simply took both his sister and hers by the arm and drew them outside to join her for a stroll in the gardens while Anne chose to remain indoors.

  I have once again made my Elizabeth smile. Darcy observed the two sisters, along with Georgiana, several days later from his study window. Elizabeth held little Charles in her arms, smiling down at the infant and trailing a delicate finger down his soft cheeks. The painful sweetness of it was almost too much to bear, but he did not turn away. He knew not how long he remained in that attitude before he was interrupted by the arrival of his friend.

  “I say, Darcy, are we still riding out on the morrow? I had hoped to view several estates whilst we are here,” Bingley asked on entering the room.

  Darcy forced his attention from the view below, steadied his voice, and replied, “Naturally, Bingley. Come, you can review the agent’s findings.” Never had he found it more difficult to focus on matters of business than at that moment.

  May 15, 1813

  Pemberley, Derbyshire

  Dear Richard,

  I look forward to your visit and am quite sure you will find several of the properties will meet your needs. Your mother took three full pages to express her delight and her hopes that your decision to purchase an estate will soon result in making plans of another kind. If you choose to disappoint your mother on that score, please do give me some notice so I might arrange to be out of the country at the time. Mr and Mrs Bingley have been with us these five days, and in that time, we have visited three estates. Only one was completely unsuitable. Of the other two, either would suffice for your needs.

  I must now impose upon you and beg your assistance with another matter. Your mother must cease her attempts at matchmaking on my behalf. I shall not take to wife a woman I do not love, and I shall only ever love one woman. As I cannot have her, I shall not marry. I well recognise the need for Pemberley to have an heir, but to be quite honest I see no harm in allowing the estate to pass to Georgiana’s first-born son.

  I have worked diligently to fulfil my vow to make Miss Elizabeth smile each day. It is more difficult than it would appear at first. She takes great delight in wandering the grounds, and when the weather does not allow for outdoor activities, she can be found in the library. She also plays duets with Georgiana; ’tis a sound of which I shall never tire.

  I believe my greatest successes have occurred in these past few days. First, I arranged a reunion with her most beloved sister. Miss Elizabeth and Mrs Bingley have not been in company since the former was married. Miss Elizabeth’s face lit with pure delight upon seeing her sister and nephew. It has been some time since I have felt such satisfaction. My second success was a picnic just yesterday. Our entire party made for the pond and spent a pleasant afternoon engaged in conversation and games. I am not ashamed to confess the lady very nearly defeated me in similes.

  Your cousin,

  Fitzwilliam Darcy

  May 15, 1813

  Pemberley, Derbyshire

  Dear Papa,

  You are very sly to keep from me the secret of Jane’s visit. I shall not hide from you that I wept with joy on seeing my beloved sister. How I have longed for her companionship. Anne and Georgiana are quite dear to me, but they are not my Jane.

  Jane and Charles arrived only two days after my last letter to you, but I believe they plan to stay for several weeks. Mr Darcy and Charles are very much engaged with the estate, so I see little of them except after dinner. What can I say of your grandson that you do not already know? Little Charlie is an absolute joy. He is a happy baby with an excellent disposition. With his mother’s looks and his father’s humour, he is destined to be a good man.

  Yesterday our entire party—Anne, Georgiana, Charles, Jane, Charlie, Mr Darcy and I—partook of a picnic near the pond. It was truly a perfect day. Mr Darcy saw to the comfort of all his guests. There was nothing that needed to be done that he did not do himself. There was an abundance of excellent food and intelligent conversation. We sat on blankets in the shade of a massive oak and spoke of happy memories. We played a wonderful game of similes, which I am sure you will not be surprised to find Mr Darcy won. Though I shall say I came very close to it in the end.

  I have heard from no one in Kent save Lady Catherine. She tells me my cousin is very much engaged with his duties and will not be able to join me any time soon. I took the news quite cheerfully.

  I love you, Papa.

  Elizabeth Collins

  June 21, 1813

  Pemberley, Derbyshire

  Dear Jane,

  It seems wholly unfair, after being deprived of your company for more than a year, to be parted again after so short a reunion. I miss you already, and I am certain Charlie misses his favourite aunt.

  It has now been three weeks since you left Pemberley. Have you told Mama yet that you are looking for an estate and will settle in Derbyshire as soon as an eligible purchase presents? I think not, for surely her lamentations would be so loud as to be heard even at this distance.

  I write to impart good news. Our dear Anne is to be married. I do not believe it will be a long engagement as each of the parties is anxious to begin a life together. As the groom is a second son, the couple will reside at Rosings. I do not know whether Lady Catherine will retire to the dowager house. It is rather difficult to imagine Rosings without her formidable presence.

  Alas, along with the happiness there must be some sorrow. Now that there is a wedding to plan, we must all return to Kent. Dearest Jane, I hope you will not judge me too harshly when I say that I shall leave the very best of me behind at Pemberley. These past months have been like a dream. I have been surrounded by friends. I have been at peace, and I have not known an instant of fear except in the night. We none of us can control our dreams, and that is where my cousin finds me.

  But to Kent I must go, and I shall hope that this time apart has brought a change to the one I must call husband. If it has, then perhaps I shall find some measure of contentment in that country.

  Your affectionate sister,

  Elizabeth Collins

  June 24, 1813

  Pemberley, Derbyshire

  Dear Richard,

  I write at our cousin’s bidding as she claims to be too overcome with joy to undertake the task herself. You will recall, for who could not, Anne introduced her mother to a certain gentleman last Christmas. When Anne determined she would travel to Derbyshire, she wrote immediately to Miss Addison. In consequence, Mr Addison and his sister arrived in the neighbourhood just after my last letter. Miss Addison joined the ladies here at Pemberley, but as Mr Addison was courting our cousin, he took a roo
m at the inn in Lambton.

  You will note I say he was courting our cousin. Mr Addison, Matthias as he prefers, proposed to our Anne some five days ago and she has accepted him. If my aunt agrees to the scheme, the couple plan to wed in August in Kent. Anne was not initially in favour of marrying from her home, as she is reluctant to have Mr Collins perform the ceremony. Ultimately, her regard for Miss Elizabeth and desire to have that lady as her witness took precedence. It was decided to be very unlikely Mr Collins would allow his wife to travel again so soon after her return from this county. If you wish, you are welcome to extend your July visit and travel with us to Rosings.